Soul Stealer
by Arishandera
Summary: He did not move, even when the dementor floated before him, lifted its hood, and took his face into its clammy bony hands and began to lift him upwards...When Yami no Bakura is faced with a dementor, whose soul will be lost? Weird ONESHOT YGOHP


**Another random one-shot. Dunno if it makes sense to you. Will probably revise this sometime later. Finished this at 1 AM so can't really think straight now, hehe.**

**I've been playing with this idea about dementors and Yami no Bakura cuz they both steal souls and stuff. Don't really know what came out of it (you tell me:D)**

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Soul Stealer

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A real pity that souls don't secrete blood. All these Death imitations do is emit a high-pitched scream and then crumple into a useless gray rag of filth. Very bland to how mortals scream, so plain compared to how mortals _die_. He was already beginning to wonder why he took this ridiculous offer in the first place. This is so dull compared with his partnership with Malik, he almost missed the pharaoh, at least he made things _interesting_ for him.

A battle of good and evil indeed. This was pathetic.

Yami no Bakura felt the ring grow hot on my chest, and its glow allowed him a glimpse of yet another one of those cloaked creatures he has been given the boring task of destroying. They were horrible beings, though he guessed he must give them credit for their depressing abilities. The screams of his village kept resounding in his mind whenever they approached. That's what the wizards told him; they awaken the most painful heart-shattering memory in your life, and then when you're so broken that you can't move, they move in for the kill.

What did they call it again…?

Ah, yes…the Dementor's Kiss.

They can't affect him though. Yami no Bakura was not mortal enough to be affected. Even they can't handle the suffering of his soul, its darkness, its thirst for vengeance.

A pale hand grabs the dementor around where its neck should be. And a very wicked grin spreads through Yami no Bakura's face when the creature gave out a piercing scream that kept on going and going. It wasn't a human scream, and it did not emit as much fear as he liked, but they were screams nonetheless.

They steal souls and destroys them, the Minister of Magic said.

But when they tried to steal _his _soul, Yami no Bakura stole theirs instead, and destroyed them afterwards. Wretched beings, abominations, he didn't even know why these wizards feared them so. If they knew that the dementors re-awaken their most painful memories, why were they not prepared for it? Why did they still shudder and crumple to the floor and start shaking and _cry_? They knew they were just memories, didn't they? Idiot wizards.

The screeching dementor was starting to grate on Yami no Bakura's nerves and he decided to end the pathetic creature's life at last.

A flash of the Sennen Ring.

A screech and a scream.

Yami no Bakura smirked and allowed the now-lifeless tattered rag to slip through his fingers and drop to the floor, joining a dozen or more that had fallen not too long ago. This was no challenge, he thought rather irritably.

If he got bored soon, those witches and wizards should prepare themselves. It would only be too easy for him to revive these dementors and allow it to run rampant throughout the ministry. His eyes glinted with malice. Yes, that would be very fun indeed.

The dementors were feared for their chilling abilities to chill the wizard or witch's soul with painful memories.

Yami no Bakura was human _once_, and he plays with mortals' souls for his own pleasure.

But before, the dementors served the good side, did they not? They kept watch over the wizard prison, Azkaban. Inflicted fear upon the most vile of beings in the magical world. Before, Yami no Bakura was a mere child, forced to see death and cruelty and suffering too early in his young life. He despaired like a human, cried like a lost child.

The dementors, what drove them to devour and kill? Mere hunger and thirst for the souls they feed upon.

And what drives Yami no Bakura? Desire for justice-turned-revenge, lust to see people suffer as his youth suffered.

The air's temperature began to drop once more, and Yami no Bakura's skin prickled. Another dementor was coming. How easy they were to lure, thinking that he was helpless little mortal, ridden with a heart-wrenching past that they could take advantage and feed upon. He did not move, even when the dementor floated before him, lifted its hood, and took his face into its clammy bony hands and began to life him upwards, closer and closer to its shadowed face.

And suddenly, Yami no Bakura smiled, and the dementor became dimly aware that this was not its usual victim. The dementor in that moment, felt fear for the very first time in its horrid existence.

It screamed again, not unlike the ones who perished before.

It's not hard to see who the ministry should be cautious of, who the magical world should fear more. If they weren't careful, he might turn on them, like the dementors did too not too-long ago. But Yami no Bakura will be a hundred times more deadly, a vengeful soul stealer.

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**A one-shot for now, but who knows, maybe I'll make a full-fledged fic with this basic concept in the near future. If the idea appeals to you people, I guess.**

**Or maybe I'm just blabbering cuz of lack of sleep (shrugs). I'll be able to think clearer tomorrow.**


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